All Epilogue 08 - Virgil and Mako
“So…” Mako said, looking down at the child in front of him. He stood silently for a minute. Virgil looked back up at him, matching his expression of passive curiosity. “You’re Osamu’s kid.” “Who’s Osamu?” “Your dad.” “Oh.” Virgil was unfazed, “His name’s Victor.” “No, it’s Osamu. “Victor.” “Osamu.” “Victor.” “Osamu.” Virgil paused, considering before he conceded, “...He’s Osamu when he’s a devil, and Victor when he’s not.” “Well, he’s always Osamu,” Mako countered. “But if he’s pretending to be a human, he’s Victor,” Virgil pressed. Mako didn’t respond, eyes narrowing. “You gotta call him Victor, right? Otherwise, people will be all ‘what are you doing, that’s not his name,’ right?” “...Yeah...but he’s still Osamu…” “But his name’s also gotta be Victor,” Virgil cut him off. “Riiiiight?” Mako made a ‘hmn’ noise, not liking where the argument was going. Virgil grinned, “So, he looks human now. So his name’s Victor.” Mako frowned, “...You’re a mouthy little twerp, I’ll give you that.” Virgil still grinned. “A tiny, mouthy Osamu.” “M’not Osamu either,” Virgil said. “I’m Virgil.” “Tiny Osamu…” Mako said, ignoring the boy. “...Short Osamu. Shorty.” “M’not short!” Virgil frowned. Mako grinned, “You look pretty short to me.” “M’not! You’re short.” “I’m not short!” Mako countered. “You’re short!” “I’m a kid! Dad’s taller than you, ‘n I’m gonna be as tall as him. You’re not even that much taller than Lucca! You're ''short.” Mako blinked, then grinned, “...Mouthy little twerp…” He bent over to look at him, “Alright Twerp. Daddy’s been teaching you to fight, right?” “Yeah,” he replied with a tone of obviousness. “Cool. Get a sword, I wanna see what you can do.” Virgil shrugged, “OK. We gotta practice outside though.” He pointed to the sizable backyard. Mako rolled his eyes, “How’re you supposed to learn how to fight in tight spaces if you have to go outside?” Virgil began walking to his room, “You gotta get Dad’s permission if you wanna fight inside.” “...Ehhhhh,” Mako shrugged. “No point in bugging him if you’re no good anyways.” “I’m good!” Virgil whined. “I’ll be the judge of that.” The boy came back with a wooden sword and looked to Mako, gesturing to head out towards the yard. Mako frowned at the weapon, “...Really? Toy swords?” “Dad won’t let me use a real one yet. He says I can when I’m older.” “If you’re old enough to swing a toy, you’re old enough to swing something real,” Mako said. “I keep telling Dad I’m old enough!” Virgil agreed. “You tell him!” “Oh, I will,” Mako said as the two went outside. “Alright, show me what you’ve got, Twerp.” Virgil took a stance and began moving through a set of forms. Mako laughed, causing Virgil to frown at him. “No, Twerp, I don’t give a damn about forms.” He gestured for Virgil to come at him, “Come on. See if you can hit me.” Virgil frowned, “I’m not supposta swing at anyone who doesn’t have a weapon…” Mako scoffed, “Twerp, you ain’t even gonna touch me. Give it your best.” Virgil shook his head, “Dad says.” “Aughh,” Mako groaned, “Dad this, dad that. Your dad has too many rules.” He looked around, then picked up a gardening hoe that had been left nearby. “There, I’m armed. Bring it.” Virgil looked at him with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged, lunging at Mako, who dodged almost lazily. Try as he might, Virgil couldn't land a hit: Mako danced around, proving impossible to strike. With tight-lipped concentration, Virgil did his best, using all of the skills he had garnered in his youth, managing to keep from getting frustrated despite his opponent. He missed a swing and recovered with a simple yet skillful spin; Mako looked surprised and caught the sword in his hand, stopping Virgil abruptly. “Where’d you learn that?” “Dad,” he replied, pulling the sword back. “That’s not something you’d do with a katana. That’s not his style. Why’s he teaching you something else?” Virgil looked confused, “Dad doesn’t use a katana. That’s what Mr. Komatsu and Clover use.” Mako looked at him with suspicion. “...What’s your Dad use?” “Uhm…” Virgil thought, “It’sa sword...it’s kinda curved? It’s about as long as a katana.” Mako’s eyes widened and a small grin started to creep across his face, “And it’s a very rare sort of sword? No one else you know uses one?” “I guess…?” “Does he do a lot of spinning? Where he knocks away people’s weapons, and he’s very hard to hit?” “Yeah.” Mako’s grin was manic. “Hold on, Twerp. I gotta go laugh at your dad for a minute.” Virgil was confused, “Why?” but Mako was already running off. Osamu and Lucca were in the kitchen eating lunch. As Lucca watched, Mako slowly rose up from the side of the table, grinning like a crazed person near Osamu’s elbow. Osamu ignored him. Mako pointed and said quietly, his voice trying to restrain his joy, “I told you! I told you it was better!” “What’s better?” Osamu said passively, not fazed. “You were using the mortiferum!” Osamu looked up from his soup into the distance for a second, then sighed, only causing Mako to somehow grin larger. “I told you! I told you I told you I told you!! You knew it was better too! You knew it all along!" Osamu sighed again. "Hee hee hee! Were you as good as I was?” Giggling manically, Mako sank back down under the table again as Osamu rubbed his eyes. Lucca didn’t actually see Mako leave the room, but he was no longer there. ---- Mako was rather impressed with this new hat: unlike the one he had been carrying around since long before he had even become a devil, this one actually changed his form. Being a human again was an interesting yet unbalancing sensation, thanks to the loss of his heavy tail, so he was taking the time to re-familiarize himself with his body. It was as he was lowering himself into a particularly precarious yoga position in the den, Virgil walked in. He perched quietly on the couch, watching Mako with great interest. The man let a minute pass before he huffed, “Can I help you, twerp?” Virgil shook his head, “I was wonderin’ something. But you can keep goin’! I’ll wait.” He leaned his chin on his hands, “That looks ''really hard. You’re really bendy.” Rolling his eyes, Mako retorted, “Prefer to do it alone, kid.” “Oh. Why?” he asked, almost oblivious in his inquiry. “It’s really cool, I’ll bet lotsa people would like to see.” “Not here to give you a show, twerp,” Mako said bluntly, “Whadda want?” If the jab had hurt Virgil’s feelings, he didn’t let it show. He grinned, “I wanted to see what you look like.” “Scary,” was Mako’s simple reply as he twisted about into another position. “How scary?” “Very scary.” “More or less than Dad? ‘Cause Dad’s like...not,” Virgil replied dismissively. “Like, maybe he’d be scary if he tried, but anyone can be scary if they try. So like, are you scary if you don’t try?” “Yup.” “More or less than Dad?” he pressed “Definitely more.” “Can I see?” “Nope.” “Please?” “Nope.” Virgil pouted, “Why not?” “‘Cause you’ll cry and I’ll give you nightmares,” he replied brusquely, shifting about once again. “Go away.” This statement did get a rise out of the boy, “Nuh uh!!” He was defiant, folding his arms as he said, “Wouldn’t be scared at all.” “Pfft, sure, talk big, kid,” Mako scoffed. “What’s to be scared of?” he sniffed. “You wouldn’t eat me or anything, so even if you looked really scary, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.” Mako just chuckled again, obviously disbelieving, which only served to frustrate the boy further. Virgil puffed up with indignance, “I’ll prove it. I’ll prove I’m not scared at all.” Mako turned fluidly into a new pose, “Oh? And how’re ya gonna do that, twerp?” “You show me, and I’ll show you,” he said simply, turning his nose up a bit. Chuckling again, Mako retorted, “Oh, what, you’re just going to stand there pretending to not be scared? How’re you going to prove anything?” “Not gonna tell you anything ‘till you show me,” he said defiantly. “Go away, twerp,” Mako said flatly. “...Nah,” Virgil just shook his head. “I wanna see, and you’ve got no reason to not show me. So I’ve got no reason to go.” Mako, from his partially-inverted position, narrowed his eyes at the child. “If you want me to go, ‘s faster for you to show me.” Mako considered the willful boy seriously for a moment before asking, “...Your Dad really lets you get away with this, you blackmailing little toad?” “Yeah. Sometimes,” Virgil said honestly. “You can call him. I’ll ask him if it’s ok to see what you look like.” After regarding him for a moment longer, Mako grinned broadly. “...Fine!” Flipping up onto his feet with a swift grace, he closed the gap between them as he flicked the hat from off his head. His demonic form revealed, he loomed over the boy menacingly, still grinning as he leaned into his personal space. Virgil balked slightly at the speed at which Mako had approached him, taking a step back. “Oh ho!” Mako chuckled, “Not doing a very good job of proving it, are you?” He leered with his toothy, too-large grin, “I can smell your fear.” Virgil straightened, “You surprised me ‘cause you jumped up like that. That’s not the same.” The boy leaned in just as closely as Mako himself, investigating. “Can I touch?” “Huh?” Mako didn’t give a direct reply before the boy began to prod him, making enthusiastic commentary about his claws, his spines, his tail and his skin that felt scaly to the touch. The overzealous excitement obviously left Mako at a loss and he became visibly more and more uncomfortable the longer it went on. Eventually he interrupted, “Ok, you done, kid?” “No,” he said stiffly, standing up formally. “Said I’d prove it. That I’m not scared at all.” He pointed to the couch, “Lie down.” “Huh?” “Lie down,” he said primly. Mako raised an eyebrow, “...Why?” In lieu of response, Virgil just imperiously wagged his finger. Pursing his lips, he hesitated for only a moment before shrugging and acquiescing. Flopping back heavily on the couch, he said, “Ok kid, what’s gonna prove thaaaahh what the Hell?!” Virgil had laid down himself, practically on top of the demon and causing no small amount of awkward recoil. Virgil only snorted, “You gotta hold still!” “What in the actual Hell are you-?!” “Shht!” Virgil cut him off forcibly, leaning up to look at him with a look of furious determination. “I’m proving you wrong.” He lay down again, “So you can lay there and be quiet.” “Wha-...” Mako held himself in a state of tense disbelief for nearly a minute before settling down under the boy, his expression a clear picture of discomfort and confusion. It didn’t take long for Mako to realize what had apparently transpired, and he used Osamu’s telepathic link to speak silently. Osamu… Hmmn? Osamu’s voice spoke clearly in his mind. Mako spoke in a jagged sentence. Osamu, your kid, is sleeping on me. The reply was one of mild confusion, Why is he doing that? I! He just! Eh! It! Mako did not form anything resembling a clear explanation. ...If this isn’t the most precious thing, I don’t know what is. Mako heard Osamu’s sarcastic comment and leaned back just enough to look towards the door. Osamu stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed, grinning; he didn’t look like himself at the moment, rather instead like an older Asonian half-elf, and the appearance never seemed right at all to Mako. The prickly devil had larger concerns at the moment, and he glared at Osamu as he continued, Did he join you while you were napping? No! He! Augh, he was being a pest! Osamu raised an eyebrow, awaiting further explanation. Ugh! Twerp said he was going to prove he wasn’t scared of me, and then he did *this*! ...Well, Osamu grinned more broadly, I think he made his point rather well. Get him off of me! He doesn’t sleep deeply; nudge him and he’ll wake up, Osamu smirked, and promptly demand recognition of his victory. What kind of weird-ass kid do you even *have*?! Mako was indignant to say the least. Osamu’s expression became somehow more vague, yet remained pleased and almost proud, One who, not even at the age of ten, can treat a devil like a pillow. Who has no fear of the extraordinary, who rises to any adversity, and who has never once shied from offering assistance to anyone or anything he sees in need of help. Osamu turned on his heel and walked away, adding, An incredible child, if I do say so myself. Though I admit I’m probably biased. Mako watched him leave and caught himself just before shouting out to him. Grumbling quietly, he nearly made to shove Virgil bodily off of him before he stopped. His expression slowly shifted from indignity to consideration as he regarded the child, who was indeed sleeping on top of him without a care. Osamu loved this boy: of that there was no question. He was his son, his heir, his proper child, as far as Mako could figure. He was a willful, imperious brat, but he wasn’t weak or shallow. This boy knew full well that his father and two of the other five people in his home were devils, and if he didn’t know now that they were all born humans, he certainly would eventually. Mako began to fit together the pieces of an almost-inevitable future, and he wondered to himself how much of that picture Osamu had put together himself. He knew one thing for certain: if, at the day’s end, Osamu felt like he had failed this boy in any way, he would never recover. In the last few weeks here, his friend had been happier, livelier, and more engaged than Mako had seen him in decades. Maybe ever. As Mako looked at the child that napped indignantly on him to prove a point, he considered his role in this, the strange, rural family scene that Osamu had called him to. Deciding that it was the same as it always was, he began to muse on how best to achieve his aims. Mako’s job after all, his real job, was to ensure the success of Osamu’s whims and goals; with that in mind, the success of this boy was paramount. The question was how best to ensure that would happen. ---- The family had been out that day. When it was night and they had returned home, Lucca noticed Virgil looking away thoughtfully, a melancholy to his mood. Lucca approached him, “What’s up, bud?” “Nothing!” He said quickly, looking up at him. Lucca continued to gently press as Virgil denied anything being the matter. Eventually, Virgil admitted, “It’s just...nothing! I was just...I thought something. I thought something mean, and I was thinking about it, and m’sorry I did.” Lucca gave him a gentle look, “Aww, bud, it’s ok. It happens to everyone sometimes. Doesn’t mean you’re a bad person or anything, don’t worry.” “I’no, I’no…” he said, rubbing his eyes. “S’why I said it was fine. M’just being dumb.” “Don’t say that, you know you’re not dumb. But, if it’s bothering you, it’s not fine.” Lucca stepped forwards and pulled the boy into a hug. After a moment, he added, “Maybe if you tell me what it was, I can help.” Virgil shook his head in Lucca’s chest, “Naaaah…’s just a thing. Can’t do anything about it…” “Please?” Lucca prodded. Again, Virgil was hesitant, stepping back and shaking his head, denying anything as being serious. As Lucca continued to ask, he eventually frowned and folded his arms, his mood quickly becoming frustrated as he reluctantly vocalized his thoughts, “It’ so dumb! I just...uuuugh, Dad doesn’t smile the same way anymore. There was all the stupid stuff on the boat with the wolves and the horns and the an’nesia, but now it’s like just that one stupid thing and I keep thinking about it and it’s so mean ‘cause he can’t help it and rrrrg!” Lucca looked at him for a moment before his face softened. He held out his arms again and said quietly with a tiny, sad smile, “Don’t be so hard on yourself…” Virgil leaned in with a tinge of reluctance, and Lucca continued, “It’s very different...and if it makes you feel any better, I notice it too.” He stroked the boy’s hair, “...I miss his old smile too…” Virgil shut his eyes tightly, grimacing, before pushing away. “Rrrg, so *dumb*!!” He began to stomp away down the hallway. Lucca called after him, concern plain on his face. The boy groused, “I can’t sleep *now*...” His voice held a sulking note, “‘M gonna go outside for a bit.” As the child stomped away, Lucca held his hand out, but the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. He watched him go and continued to look long after the boy had left, until eventually he let his gaze drop and he drifted off to his room, heavy thoughts weighing down his mind. Virgil made his way out towards the back yard, stopping in his room to collect his training sword with its wooden blade. Walking out onto the grassy lawn that quickly turned into a series of groves and flower beds, he stooped to pick up a small rock before moving purposefully deeper into the gardens. Approaching one of the fish ponds that was surrounded by trees, he paused and looked around, his sword ready, the rock held in his off-hand. His expression was hard and deadly serious as he surveyed the surroundings. A leaf rustled, and Virgil whipped the rock towards the movement, bringing up his sword as Mako lunged out of the woodwork towards him. “Not too bad, Twerp!” he chirped, launching immediately into an assault with his bare hands that Virgil parried and blocked with his wooden sword. Though he looked like a Yetoman, Mako certainly wasn’t one; Virgil knew this and held no reservations about swinging at his unarmed opponent: he couldn’t possibly hurt the devil with a stick. Mako’s grin took on a slight serious cast as he said, “I know that look. What’s got your hackles up, Twerp?” Virgil merely grunted, and Mako grinned, “Come oooon. Otherwise, I’ll send you to bed. I can do that! I’m an adult,” he smirked broadly at the apparent humour in his statement. “It’s just DUMB!” he shouted. “It’s dumb and why do people want to know if I keep saying it’s dumb!?” “Don’t give me that, Twerp,” he said, still swinging, trying to get at the boy who kept up his defense. “I’ve seen you sit and poke at people who look sour for hours. You don’t leave anyone alone; why should you get the privilege?” Virgil frowned, but considered the statement deeply before saying, “It’s just dumb. I was thinkin’ today that Dad doesn’t smile like he used to anymore. Then I got mad, ‘cause so what? I’m supposed to not care. It’s so stupid.” “Yeah. Probably,” Mako said, shrugging without stopping his attack. “Don’t really know what you’re on about though. Doesn’t seem different to me, and I’ve known him a heck of alot longer than you, Twerp.” “It’s...it’s…” Virgil began to lose his breath as he struggled to keep up, and the confusion of his thoughts didn’t help matters. “It’s...he never...really smiles at all anymore!” Mako raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t!” Mako seemed to consider this, obviously fighting absently though his strikes’ speed and accuracy suffered none, underscoring how little he was trying to begin with. “Smiles...like another person...so stupid…to care. He’s...trying. He...said. So I gotta...gotta not care.” “Huh,” Mako said, as though realizing something novel. “That must’ve been something weird. It’s too bad I missed it entirely.” Virgil grunted, demanding further explanation, and Mako obliged, “Like, I get what you’re saying. Magic shi-stuff that messes people up is the worst. Sucks for everyone. But, like, it sucks worse for you, ‘cause it sounds like you’re looking at it wrong.” “Huh?” “If someone hit you with a spell, and you turned into a spider, that would suck, right?” Virgil was absorbed in his sparring, but nodded. “You were a spider for years, and everyone who knew you before you were a spider would be like ‘geeze, that’s so weird, he’s a spider’, right? But, like, what if you made spider friends? Who only knew that you were a spider. Then the magic got fixed, and you were like ‘yeah not a spider!’ But then your spider friends would be all ‘whaaaa, that’s not right at all’.” Mako grinned, “I never got to see Spider Osamu at all. Lame.” Virgil frowned with some confusion, and Mako rolled his eyes, “It’s a metaphor, Twerp. An example.” “I know!” “Your dad isn’t different,” Mako said, his voice getting a hint of gravity. “The problem isn’t that he changed. The problem is he changed back. He never really was a human shmuck living on a farm in the bush. It was a spell making him that way, and it sucks for you that you only saw the spell. But now the spell is busted and he’s himself and I get that it’s weird for you that he’s not acting anymore, but hey, isn’t that better?” “...Yeah…” Virgil agreed. “If it’s better, doesn’t matter that it’s weird, and everything that’s weird that doesn’t matter stops being weird eventually.” Virgil nodded, “S’why I said it was dumb!” “It is!” Mako chuckled. With a fluid grace and inhuman speed, the devil with a human appearance grabbed the wooden sword and wrenched it from Virgil’s grasp, adding, “So stop worryin’ about it.” The boy panted but with no weapon he did not continue to fight, instead dropping his hands to his knees. His expression was exasperated and despondent, and Mako regarded at him with a considering sort of look. Suddenly he grinned, resting the wooden sword on his shoulders, “Come on.” Looking up, Virgil was confused, “Huh?” Mako had begun walking away, and he gestured for Virgil to follow. “I found a cool hole in the cliffs by the beach, and you should be small enough to fit. I want to see if there’s anything neat in it.” Virgil didn’t follow immediately, so Mako glanced over his shoulder, “What, you got better things to do?” “Isn’t it late?” Smiling with his manic grin, he retorted, “So? I’m an adult. And I said you could come, so, are you gonna?” Virgil blinked once before partially returning the smile and jogging to catch up. Category:Advent of the All